The Deadliest of Enemies
by yuffiehighwind
Summary: The three men in Discord's life all touch her in different ways, and affection from her rival Deimos is the most baffling of all. Discord/Deimos.


**Summary: **Three moments in time - Discord's romance with Ares, her family bond and rivalry with Strife, and a snapshot from her 25 years with Deimos.

**Notes:** This is an excerpt from a WIP I'm writing that's posted over on AO3 called "The Opposite of Amnesia." This flashback takes place during my weird XWP/HtLJ series "An Eternity in Cheese Country," a ludicrous epic in which Discord, Deimos and Strife have been reincarnated in 1998 Wisconsin. While the plot sounds comedic, Discord and Strife's backstory includes a very dark, abusive relationship with Ares. Meanwhile, the crack!ship of Discord/Deimos evolves over the course of EiCC into being much healthier, which Discord finds absolutely bonkers.

Like in the original Greek myth, Aphrodite and Ares are the parents of Deimos, even though Deimos is explicitly their cousin in TV canon.

References and recaps the events of S5E20 of HTLJ, "Fade Out." Strife is killed by Callisto in S4E13 "Armageddon Now Part One." The sex scene takes place during the time gap between S5E19 "Looking Death in the Eye" and S5E20 "Livia," and after my fic on AO3 called "Got Me Walkin' Side to Side."

Allusions to abuse, and descriptions of sinfully sappy, non-explicit sex. Rated M for excessive swearing.

* * *

**The Deadliest of Enemies**

Ares doesn't do anything in half-measures. You ask to get fucked by the God of War, you'll get _fucked_ by the God of War – rough and unforgivingly. Discord knows he'd hold back if she were human, but she's a fiery young goddess angling for his job who needs to be regularly put in her place. Discord can take it – she's strong, nearly strong enough to give as well as she gets. Ares fucks her every way possible – softly and lovingly or fiercely and hatefully, and every way in between. He loves her, Ares says, but only as a sister – the worst possible way of letting her down easy. It's fucked up, but technically Zeus is Hera's brother too. Maybe that's why their children are born freaks, loving blood and war and crossing every line.

But Discord loves Ares romantically – thoroughly and hopelessly. He's her moon and stars for centuries until she takes a different divine lover – a few, in fact, after a party on Parnassus. Rejected by Ares for some reason or another, given the "it's just sex" talk and finally sick of it. Red with humiliation, she's not sure which god gets in her bed, so she's not sure which god knocks her up. She decides to keep the baby, because maybe – just maybe – her son will be a better God of War.

She names her son Strife, and while Discord likes pain, she's also starved for gentler touch. So they're friendly and affectionate - shoulder touches, elbow nudges, high fives and the occasional hug. Normal family stuff, though there's something more between them that's slightly off and wrong, which Discord has no trouble burying, and Strife gets the hint and buries it too.

Once Strife's old enough, conditioned into trusting "Uncle Ares" and hanging on his every word, Ares pulls the same romantic shit on him he did Discord, while keeping Discord at arms' length as his regular female fuck buddy. Ares' flowery promises are lies, but Discord envies Strife anyway. At least until he gets the full-on abusive fuckface treatment from her brother, but by then Strife's so invested in him there's no escaping the God of War's orbit. Strife always calls him "Unc" or "Uncle," and the childish address combined with catching the boy sucking the war god's cock turns Discord's stomach and makes her want to punch Ares through a wall.

If Ares is gonna fuck his nephew, then Discord is gonna do the same. Tit for tat, not that Ares cares. The God of War cares little for his son Deimos at all. The only reason Discord gives Deimos the time of day is because A) she's lonely, and B) he looks like Strife.

Yeah, Discord loves every fucked-up thing a war goddess can do – killing and torturing humans, driving them insane, having nasty sex on battlefields and starting bloody wars. But she doesn't cross the line with Strife, because it's not only confusing but dreadfully wrong. And Deimos doesn't look like him, not really, except for the same blue eyes. Maybe that's what draws her – it's not a sex thing, but familial. A comforting reminder of the semi-dysfunctional relationship that was the closest thing to love she ever had.

Strife's dead and Discord's not sure where he's buried, and it kills her, but she insists it's no great loss. Nobody can know how much she misses him, and nobody remembers why she would, other than Ares and Aphrodite. They're parents too, and they have their own, similar blonde-haired brat.

* * *

Discord's first real interaction with her nephew goes well and feels familiar, until he steals credit for her ideas. Then again, she wouldn't have put it past Strife to pull the same shit. Maybe it bothers her because it's more paramount than ever that Discord be next in the line of succession. She and Ares know gods can die, now. Callisto confirmed that with a knife to Strife's gut.

It shouldn't come as a surprise when Ares picks his son over her, but the young god is such a jackass that Discord can't contain her shock. She works hard to prove this and almost succeeds. She gets Hercules and Iolaus to help – her first and last resort to make Deimos look bad. After their battle for the Rock of Argius, it's kinda fun to fight with him, though she pretends that it's a chore. Ares calls them insufferable children and it hurts but he's not wrong.

Deimos is uncomfortably touchy, though he may not actually notice. His hands are as familiar to Discord as his eyes, but the effeminate way he speaks and laughs and twirls his wrists are distinguishing differences between him and her son. Deimos clearly doesn't swing her way, so she finds it strange he's always touching her. Then she spots him at a party with his tongue down a nymph's throat, and it clicks that Deimos swings whichever way will get him laid.

* * *

Ares slinks like a cat when he's walking or sitting – he can never sit in a chair properly, casually swinging his legs over armrests. But when the God of War's hands are on you, they're commanding and sure. His touches feel deliberate and calculated, whether he's gently caressing your skin or digging his nails into your flesh hard enough to create bruises in the shapes of his fingers.

His son isn't quite so thoughtful, slinging his arm around your shoulders or waist, patting your back a little too hard or grabbing attention by gripping your arm. Whatever comes to him in the moment, like the foolish words out of his mouth he can't bite back, saying his thoughts as they occur to him. Deimos is reactive, never proactive. Discord imagines him winging almost everything. She imagines his thoughts are even more disorganized in bed.

The name "Deimos" and the words "in bed" don't combine in her mind until Discord's having a dry spell and finds herself watching him lick his upper lip repeatedly like a lizard. Instead of feeling nauseous it makes her feel…something else. If Deimos can stop talking for five minutes, Discord knows a better use for his tongue. And this vulgar thought doesn't seem wrong, because this must be what went through Ares' mind when he decided to start fucking his own nephew.

Discord sleeps with Deimos for lack of anything better to do, and because he's the only other war god who isn't comatose with grief over that damn human warrior that Athena just killed. He's also the only person who can or even tries to understand her.

During their first time having sex, Deimos is rough just like his father, albeit clumsy and uncertain, just as Discord predicted. But their second time he isn't like Ares at all. In fact, he gently eases her - (after mockingly daring her) - into sex with kind words and an open smile. (And an irritatingly smug laugh.) It seems his kindness is actually a joke that's meant to piss her off, because Deimos knows she gets wet when lovers call her an evil monster who needs to be punished. But then Discord's entire body fucking shivers when Deimos calls her his good little girl.

He says it again later, more than once, and despite her demands he cut the shit and stop spewing such lame-ass garbage – especially after Ares repeatedly broke her heart - she knows Deimos can feel her body betray the truth. He's nailed something she hadn't quite grasped for two thousand years. Discord doesn't just like being praised for her ruthlessness, she likes being praised for this too. She likes it so much it's embarrassing. She tries turning the tables on him, but Deimos has no qualms with it. He'll do anything in bed if it gets his partner off. Deimos is a shockingly giving lover, in a way that Ares isn't, and Discord chalks this up to the blonde specter hovering over their every dirty encounter – his mother is a love goddess.

Deimos is the most responsive and reactive lover Discord's ever had, and he tries everything she suggests – all her diabolical tortures, as long as she agrees to a trade off and fucks him in ways that make them both joyfully laugh. He's a bipolar lay, and Discord's never sure which way he will swing - not between genders, because she knows Deimos has had a fair share of men – but which way he will swing between love and war.

* * *

Ares never went for the most conventional of compliments, and Discord always liked being called a nasty, arrogant, despicable bitch. She delights in such insults, because she tries very hard to make them count. She's the Goddess of Discord who constantly craves to be Goddess of War, but when Deimos calls her a delicious snack, a beauty, baby or babe, it makes her blush and feel just as flattered.

"You're so damn beautiful," he says in her ear hoarsely, with a bitten-off moan, and Discord can't help but smile and hook her ankles behind his back. They're having sex in Discord's bed, with Deimos on top - the taller god pressing her into the mattress, his body above and all around her - setting the pace. Discord's hips rock in his steady rhythm, and she holds onto him with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

It's good,_ really_ good, but then Deimos mumbles, "I love you so fucking much," and Discord stiffens with discomfort, black thoughts crowding out her lustful ones. She opens her eyes and looks up at the ceiling, thoughts racing, wondering what this means and what the fuck she's gonna do about it. She shuts her eyes and hopes he forgets - to make herself forget - because his father said it once and she thought he meant it and he didn't so Hera said….Hera said…

"I can't," Discord blurts out, but the pause is so long Deimos doesn't know she's replying. For some reason he seems to think it means she can't come, because he looks down at her with a mischievous expression and asks what she needs him to do.

"T-touch me," Discord stutters, not directly meeting his gaze. She thinks he'll just reach down between them to caress her body, but instead he stops completely, to maneuver them into a sideways position. Discord considers this might be worse, even though they're no longer facing each other. He can't see her disturbed expression, and she can't see his earnest smile, but this actually makes it easier for Deimos to whisper more romantic garbage in her ear.

It's confusing, trying to separate logically what their relationship is from the nonsense he spews. She won't repeat past mistakes and being held tenderly like this – Deimos is fucking her slow, and that just makes everything even more starkly wrong – is a slippery slope. He's doing that stupid thing again that never fails to finish her off – begging not for his own release but for hers. He's a competitive fuck and has been since the start of their affair. It's both frustratingly annoying and super fucking hot. It's probably the only thing Deimos has in common with Ares, insisting on being the one in control. (He has that in common with Aphrodite too.) Deimos is a switch through and through, but when he's got her pinned like this, Discord is helpless.

"That's it baby," he says. "You're almost there, I can feel it."

He's not wrong, and Discord hates that the most. She's no stranger to faking orgasms – she even fakes them with Deimos sometimes – but this one is real. He has his hand between her legs and refuses to stop until she's crested, biting back her cries. She trembles in his arms – a full-body shudder – and even though gods don't need to breathe, she feels breathless. Discord clutches the pillow and hides her face in it. After a couple minutes, his own orgasm follows. Deimos still has his arms around her when he runs his fingers through her hair, and she bats away his touch. That move would get her a backhand from Ares. Her annoyed brush-offs only make Deimos chuckle.

"I'm starving," he says, disentangling their limbs and sitting up. Any remnants of the "love" in his lovemaking seem to have dispersed, replaced by the ravenous hunger of a spent war god. Discord rolls over, finally meets his eyes and he grins. Deimos tilts his head and - blue eyes shining – it's striking. He looks nothing like his father, and far too much like Strife.

* * *

**Endnote:**

The title comes from this quote:

"Touch. It is touch that is the deadliest enemy of chastity, loyalty, monogamy, gentility with its codes and conventions and restraints. By touch we are betrayed and betray others ... an accidental brushing of shoulders or touching of hands ... hands laid on shoulders in a gesture of comfort that lies like a thief, that takes, not gives, that wants, not offers, that awakes, not pacifies. When one flesh is waiting, there is electricity in the merest contact."

\- Wallace Stegner


End file.
